The Tiger-Headed Horseman Read online

  ‘No, not really,’ said Tengis. ‘As I said: it is all about me. You will retain your positions so long as you are happy to do my bidding and never question my reason.’ The Council looked uneasy but knew they had little option but to concur. ‘Oh, and about the shimmering substance . . .’ Each member instantly perked up. Wealth always carried more weight than words as far as they were concerned. ‘I have lots of it. Lots and lots. So long as you please me you will each become richer than your wildest imagination.’ The Council relaxed; some of them even began to smile. ‘That's the spirit,’ Tenghis concluded.

  ‘What would you have us do?’ asked Oldortar. Tengis smiled a broad tight-lipped smile that creased up into his cheeks.

  ‘My good man,’ replied Tengis, ‘what a loyal military general you are. I want you to summon the Leggie and ready them to march out of Baatarulaan within two days. I want you to swell the size of your force. Find one extra man, woman or child for each existing member. Release every prisoner you feel would loyally serve us and not slit our throat at the first opportunity or endanger our children in any way. Equip them all with the contents of our armoury and, once that is depleted, with anything sharp, bludgeoning or nasty they can get their hands on. Ensure that the archery legion is given particular attention; I want their numbers to swell four-fold. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Oldortar. He stood to attention, saluted in the way he imagined somebody would salute if he had ever seen anyone salute, clicked his heels and marched towards the door. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Yes, General Oldortar,’ said Tengis. Oldortar swelled with pride, it was far nicer to be addressed as General than it had been to be called Clown.

  ‘Sir,’ said Oldortar, ‘I have been thinking. So as to make sure we recognise everyone that's with us, should we perhaps wear a uniform?’

  ‘Splendid idea!’ replied Tengis. ‘I like you all to have ideas so long as the good ones are mine. General, dress as you see appropriate. Mr Enkh here will provide you with the necessary funds and please take a little extra for yourself; after all, you're worth it.’ Oldortar left the room feeling the happiest he had ever known. He was going to enjoy working for Tengis.

  ‘Mr Tengis, sir,’ said Tchoo, ‘with the new direction we are taking with our political agenda, what would you like me to do? I am happy to spread the Gospel according to Tengis? I think your Ten Recommendations still stand strong as a handbook for the average person to live their lives by day by day.’

  ‘Tchoo,’ said Tengis, ‘you have proven yourself a highly skilled political tactician. I would like you to ensure my name and word are revered throughout Ongolium. I would also like you to devise a strategy for the Leggie. With so many new recruits we need to think up new ways to prevent our authority ever being questioned. We need them to be too scared to question our actions. Perhaps once we have proven this in military circles we could consider rolling it out across the general population.’

  ‘Like the House of Fun?’ asked Tchoo.

  ‘No, absolutely not!’ answered Tengis. ‘That was merely a childish interpretation of Khad's beliefs. By dressing up dreadful things with fluffy verbiage you remove part of the terror. In so doing you render the fear less effective. Be overt if you are going to strike fear into people's hearts. That's why I renamed the House of Fun as the House of Hurt. It is far more in line with the way Khad would really have wanted it.’ A spark of warmth glowed deep within Tengis's head, as if Khad himself were affirming his approval.

  ‘Anyway, I task you with developing the means with which to force the people to accept that what I, and we, are doing is for their good and for the good of their, and our, country. I don't want people freely addicted to nasty substances; I want people to pay heavily for the privilege. We need to bolster our revenues somehow and taxing Khem and the like seems like a perfectly reasonable place to start. Make a note to increase the pushing of drugs with respect to younger people and get them hooked sooner. I want to help the people want to help themselves. To do this they have to put all of their faith in me. See to it that this happens.’ Tchoo departed leaving Odval and her father with Tengis.

  ‘Tengis, my young friend,’ said Mr Enkh, ‘I always believed you would one day be a great man. Look at you now; you make me very proud. If you ever wanted to be married, you need not ask my permission!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Tengis. ‘If I ever wanted to be married, I would do so with my own permission and no one else's. Please never let me hear you being so presumptuous again. If I am honest, I am not sure that I actually need you, Mr Enkh. I have enough wealth, after all. What else is it that you can offer me?’ Odval looked terrified but not nearly so much as her father. Tengis lay down on the bed again and picked at his leftover breakfast.

  ‘I know things,’ said Mr Enkh desperately ‘I . . . I . . . I have friends, people in important places. People of influence. I can help you secure your rightful position as our emperor. There may be wheels I can pay and people I can oil for you . . . Please?’

  ‘I should very much like to see that,’ said Tengis absently. ‘In the meantime, please go away; I am bored.’

  Mr Enkh gathered himself and, bowing, walked backwards out of the room.

  Once her father had departed, Odval walked over to Tengis and slapped his face.

  ‘Don't you dare speak to my father like that ever again,’ said Odval, ‘you hear me? I don't care who you think you are this time. He is my father.’ She made to strike him again but this time Tengis caught her wrist and twisted her hand back.

  ‘I do so love it when you are angry!’ said Tengis.

  ‘Then it looks like we shall get along well then,’ seethed Odval through clenched teeth. Tengis released her. ‘You haven't told me or anyone why you are raising such a force? You always said that Lily was but one young girl. I want her killed as much as you do, but this?’

  ‘Don't be foolish!’ replied Tengis. ‘This Lily has friends. My spies inform me that she has a growing number of strong allies in Baatarulaan and goodness knows how many others outside the city.’

  ‘Outside Baatarulaan?’ inquired Odval. ‘There is nothing outside the city; is there?’

  ‘You'd be surprised,’ said Tengis. He smirked secretly to himself. ‘There are as many people outside the city limits as there are within, perhaps even more. They are mostly ill-educated herder communities, true, but news of Lily has spread fast. Her allies in Baatarulaan have sent couriers to all corners of Ongolium to implore the herders to come together and make a stand against the evil that has kept them living like peasants and taxed them to the hilt.’

  ‘Who would that be?’ asked Odval earnestly.

  Tengis raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh . . .! Never mind that! I have to prevent any risk to my plan.’

  ‘Couldn't you just send an assassin to execute her?’ asked Odval.

  ‘It's not quite as simple as that,’ replied Tengis. ‘It is difficult to take a wolf cub without drawing in the whole pack. Anyway, I thought a show of strength such as this might be just the thing to lift people's spirits. Since everyone became a criminal or Khem addict, things have become so interminably boring in this city; nobody has any fight left in them. We'll soon change all of that.’

  Tengis's Council knew better than to disappoint him. The following day Tchoo made a lengthy slide presentation to the Counsel. His colourfully presented slides showed various ways in which Tengis could swiftly move to assert his radical new vision. Tchoo was incredibly grateful he had paid close attention in school during his business studies class. He suggested that Tengis retain much of the marketing and brand positioning that had lifted him this far but proposed some minor changes that would help him move from being perceived as a man of inclusivity towards being seen as a being of dread. His final slide received a standing ovation, even from Tengis. The new party slogan would now read: ‘Believe in ideas– Tengis's ideas. What counts is what works; and whatever Tengis says will work. The objectives are radical; the means are cruel and unusu
al. Change is no longer necessary.’ Tengis was content that his Council, who no longer actually provided any counsel, was obeying his commands. Mr Enkh ran around his master like a cocker spaniel, desperately trying to please him. Odval watched on ashamed that both her lover and her father could act in this way.

  Within two days Oldortar had built and armed troops sufficiently terrible to sate Tengis's needs. As they lined up in the city centre square, Tengis inspected them. He marvelled at how utterly innocent some of them looked. He knew that a few days’ marching and a few hours of bloody conflict would soon change all of that.

  ‘Nice uniforms, General Oldortar,’ said Tengis. The General blushed. He had long wanted his men to dress head to toe in black. They wore black suits with matching shiny black patent boots, black caps with shiny black brims and each soldier wore a red cotton armband carrying the insignia of a man with a tiger's head riding a noble horse. Tengis noted that that the insignia had evolved slightly too – the man now looked more noble than the horse and was whipping it with what looked like a snake. He grinned, much to the pleasure of his general.

  ‘Splendid, splendid!’ Tengis cried enthusiastically.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked General Oldortar.

  ‘Courtesy of Mr Enkh,’ said Tengis – Mr Enkh genuflected – ‘I am reliably informed that the traitor we seek and her rebellious pack have camped on the Steppe. If a donkey can recognise the tracks of a horse, then a horse can surely recognise the clumsy footprints of a donkey. From what I hear, they are hastily endeavouring to school themselves in the art of warfare. Tell me, Oldortar, what do my men know of the art of warfare?’

  ‘Um,’ said Oldortar, ‘they know a nice picture of a poppy field when they see one, if that's what you mean?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ replied Tengis, ‘but it hardly matters. There is no way the rebels will be any match for my men; we outnumber them embarrassingly. I will take point, just make sure your men, and women, keep up.’

  With that Tengis kissed Odval, mounted his almost proud-looking horse and took his position at the head of his 5,000-strong column of soldiers. At General Oldortar's command, they began to march forwards. Immediately Oldortar regretted not teaching his wards their left from their right but at least they were moving in the right direction.

  The march was uneventful. Tengis found no beauty on the Steppe. It lacked the cultural virtues he had long loved in Baatarulaan. There was no sound of torment as somebody somewhere lost their dearest mortal possessions. So far as Tengis was concerned, the Steppe was nothing more than an arid barren barrier that protected his city from Outsiders. He had hated it the first time he visited it and he hated it even more now. Those under his command may have felt otherwise but were far too afraid of him to show it. Whatever their leader said was good enough for them. In any case, most of the soldiers were too busy trying to work out how they could move the same leg at the same time as the person in front of them to be concerned about their surroundings. On their way across the deserted land there had been much stumbling and falling over.

  Very occasionally the troops would come across a small herder community. The soldiers had never seen anybody other than Baatarulaan residents and had been told that all others were the evil untrustworthy Outsiders that Khad had once alluded to. They laughed at the gers that differed so much from their own shabby apartments. The herders had darker skin and immediately ignited the hatred that fear only too often instils. Tengis knew better. Any herder community that they came across had obviously not sworn allegiance to Lily and the rebels, or else it would have joined that shabby rabble and moved on with them. Ever the tyrannical diplomat, Tengis sought out the leader of such groups.

  ‘You can join us,’ said Tengis to the leaders, ‘or you can become permanently joined to the earth. Your choice.’

  ‘Why should we join you?’ asked the leaders. ‘You have made our lives even more difficult than they ever needed to be.’

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ said Tengis, ‘he who drinks dies; he who does not drink dies as well. I honestly don't care either way; it depends whether you want to live a little while longer or not.’

  Mostly the herders chose to become soldiers. Each time Tengis departed such a community, regardless of whether he had slain its occupants or recruited them, he insisted on a large bell being pealed to ward off any bad spirits. He was aware that almost all herders believed strongly in the spirit world. Tengis couldn't be bothered even thinking about picking a fight with people he couldn't see, so, as his only concession to the heathens he encountered, he adopted a little local culture to protect his progress.

  By the close of the third day Tengis's troops had marched over one hundred miles. Not a great distance for a herder, but a frightening chasm of space for the city dwellers. From his calculations, estimates and secret reconnaissance details Tengis knew he was less than half a day's march from where Lily was reported to be camped. He was also within shouting distance of the source of his secret wealth. It was a good place to establish his barracks. Sounding the bell loud above the Steppe, his general bid his troops to set up camp. Oldortar would love to have seen a regimented uniformity to the camp with a carefully designed matrix pattern running through it. Instead, he had to make do with the sort of camp he had seen built in miniature by smelly, petrol-drinking ex-corporate financiers who lived beneath the bridges of Baatarulaan. He shook his head in dismay as several not even nearly vertical flagpoles were erected in the centre of the barracks. As the flag of Tengis was raised on each, the wind whipped up and tangled them into a knotted mass halfway up. At that moment Oldortar decided that it was time to retire to his tent. He hoped that Tengis would not notice the mess and thanked the spirits that dusk was quickly falling upon them.

  In the middle of the night Tengis silently sneaked out of his tent. Peering into the surrounding gloom, he made sure no one was watching him, muffled his horse's feet with rags, and rode out of camp towards the mountains. Arriving at a gorge he had known once before, he followed the natural passage through the night air. Presently he arrived at a clearing that he recognised led to his private, grotto-based bank. The entrance was as he had left it. Several large boulders blocked the doorway so as to prevent any unwanted visitors, so there was no chance that anyone had passed into his cave this way.

  Tengis tied a rope around one of the boulders, its other end to his horse, and lashed the poor beast until it had heaved both of the boulders aside. Tengis stepped into the gloom and, lighting up a torch, was instantly filled with the same excitement that had captivated him the first time he had discovered the cave. The shiny metal substance shone and glimmered all around him, making the torchlight appear to lick the walls with lusty abandon.

  Kneeling at the centre of the cave, Tengis closed his eyes and raised his hands towards the roof.

  ‘Khad!’ murmured Tengis. ‘Khad, if you can hear me, mark my words. I am calling you from the place that defined your soul. I am calling you from the place that will define mine. I offer you my soul in the same way as you have given me yours. We are united. We are one. As I face my enemies this coming day, help me vanquish them. Assist me as I eradicate any doubt of our might. We will once again rule this kingdom. We will once again be invincible.’

  The voice in his head remained silent. It had not spoken to Tengis for some time but he knew that it was planning something. Tengis could also sense from the feeling of confidence that pervaded his body that the voice inside him agreed with his every thought, word and deed. He was as powerful as he believed himself to be. The voice in his head had always told him so.

  Once Tengis had completed his ritual, he searched the cave for his planning documents and health and safety manual. Heading towards the wheelbarrow-cum-filing cabinet that he had taken great pride in organising, he saw that its contents had been spilled across the ground. Seething, he crawled among them and brought them together in one pile. Somebody had been there! Somebody had been going through his personal things!

 
Tengis wracked his brain but could not understand how anybody could have come through the entrance, and he knew there was no other way in. Nevertheless somebody had been here. He thumbed through the documents; they had almost all been read, apart from the less interesting ones. Somebody knew about his connection with Khad – but who? He couldn't understand how anybody could have gained access to his vault. If they had, then they surely had to be still there; he had scoured the vault and knew of no other way in or out. He was sure there were no other passageways or exits. It was impossible he knew but somehow somebody now most definitely was aware of his intentions. Somebody knew that he was planning to take absolute control of Ongolium; that he would willingly use Outsiders to apply force if required.

  As he panicked, a realisation came to him. He knew beyond all doubt, ridiculous as it was, that the person who had been here was Lily. She had to die and soon.

  23

  When Lily opened her eyes she thanked the spirit world that it was daytime. Sunshine shone on her face, warming her ice-cold skin. Had it been night-time she would surely have perished. As she lay half in and half out of the river she wondered why it was that among all the Ongolians it was she who was being chosen for so many adventures. She speculated that perhaps everybody had so many adventures as she was experiencing but simply chose not to talk about them. She worried fleetingly that she was being ungrateful, dour and mournful by bemoaning all that happened – but only fleetingly. No one could claim to have uncovered the source of Khad's evil, discovered the truth about Tsara and found the current resting place of Chinggis Khaan all in the space of one day.

  She laughed weakly. It was too much to believe. She began to doubt it was true. Lucky waded over and licked her face. His tongue was warm but his breath still smelled of cabbages. That always brought her back to reality. It also reminded her that he had shared her exploits so far and didn't look like leaving her side anytime soon. She hugged his wide neck lovingly. She might be a simple herder girl but she knew that, without the debts or ill-gotten trappings of Baatarulaan, she was richer than anyone there; and that living without the sociological handicaps that thwarted Baatarulaan's citizens she was infinitely more fortunate than they. She dragged herself out of the water, pulled herself together, lit a fire, pulled a metal canister from her saddlebag and made herself a nice cup of tea. Nothing made things better than a nice cup of tea. Lucky even forgot all about carrots when he had a bowl of tea with two lumps of sugar. It always worked.